


Black Fancies

by Delphi



Series: Black and White and Red All Over [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humiliation, M/M, Rape Fantasy, Sexual Fantasy, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-19
Updated: 2012-04-19
Packaged: 2017-11-03 22:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/386847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delphi/pseuds/Delphi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sirius spends entirely too much time imagining what sort of terrible things Filch is doing to Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Black Fancies

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the "Consent Play" square on the Consent Play card as part of the Kink Bingo April 2011 mini-challenge.

Everyone knew that Snape was taking it up the arse from the caretaker. 

To be more exact, Sirius had spent the last two years _telling_ people that Snape was taking it up the arse from the caretaker because 1) it was funny, and 2) it had just enough of a ring of plausibility to make it even funnier.

Filch was a lecher, that much was common knowledge. Even before Sirius had discovered—and read—the complete back catalogue of a certain magazine called _The Peridot_ , which had been hidden behind a false cabinet in his uncle’s house, he had known there was something unsavoury about Filch’s obsession with chains and flogging. And Snape...well, just look at the git.

It was more than that, though. Snape had always been Filch’s little pet rat. Whereas most of the teachers, even old Slughorn, could be counted upon to see sense when it came to the occasional prank or scuffle, Filch detested fun and would happily slap them with detentions for so much as daring to bleed on the floor after Snape threw a hex. Filch actually seemed to _like_ Snape, and it certainly wasn’t for his sunny personality. So what exactly was Snape giving up in return?

Sirius gave Remus a nudge as they walked to third-period Arithmancy. Snape had stormed past them, hunched over and clutching his books to his chest like a girl. Filch was mopping the floor at the foot of a staircase, and as Snape turned the corner, Filch’s head turned to follow. 

Remus sighed. “That isn’t really funny any more,” he said mildly.

“Yes, it is.” Sirius chuckled and made kissy sounds under his breath as they walked past the caretaker.

“In fourth year, you kept insisting Snape was secretly dating Eunice Hoddle.”

He frowned. “That was different.”

That had stopped being funny when Eunice came back last summer with clear skin, a bountiful figure, and no intention of giving Sirius the time of day. Besides, there hadn’t been any pleasure in actually _picturing_ Snape fooling around with Eunice Hoddle and her spots. Whereas, ten minutes into class, forced to listen to Snape’s know-it-all voice droning on about yesterday’s homework, it was uniquely satisfying to imagine him on his knees with his stupid gob stopped up by Filch’s prick.

 _“That mouth’s good for telling tales, isn’t it, Snape,”_ Filch would say with a leer. _“What else can it do, hm?”_

Filch had a big prick—he wore trousers, so it was hard _not_ to notice—and Sirius would bet that even Snape’s big mouth couldn’t fit it when it was hard.

He pictured it jutting out of Filch’s unwashed trousers, dark and long and thick. He pictured Snape, jaw forced open, drooling around the massive thing.

_“Come on,” Filch said briskly. “You can take more than that, you layabout.”_

_Snape made a pathetic sound of protest, pushing at Filch’s hips, but Filch grabbed a handful of greasy hair and yanked, pulling Snape forward until he choked._

_“Knew you were good for something,” Filch said. His fist wound tighter in Snape’s hair, and his other hand pinched mercilessly at Snape’s jaw as Snape struggled to breathe._

_A wet, ugly sound gurgled in Snape’s throat as Filch fucked his mouth brutally, forcing himself in to the root over and over again until Snape was whining and snivelling, lips stretched wide and face violently red._

_“Keep it open,” Filch panted, pulling out and leaving Snape gasping. His big, rough hand pulled at his red, spit-soaked prick, wanking until the first messy spurt of cream hit Snape right in his ugly gob, spate after spate of it landing on Snape’s cheeks and chin, trickling down, some of it dripping into his open mouth..._

No, Sirius thought, hot in the face and breathing a little too heavily in annoyance as Snape smugly raised his hand again. Even that was too good for him. Snape strutted around like he thought he was better than everyone else, as if he didn’t know he was ugly and weird and dressed in thirty-year-old clothes, always going on about blood purity even though he came from a family no one had even heard of. Snape didn’t understand fair play. He’d think he was too good for bargains.

_“Where do you think you’re going, Snape?” Filch growled, standing up behind his desk in his office as Snape lazily rose from the chair opposite. “I ain’t had my share yet.”_

_Snape shrugged, sneering. “That’s not my concern. I have what I came for.”_

_But Filch was bigger, faster—and mad in the head as well. He strode after Snape, catching him well before the door with a strong hand locked around a scrawny arm. Snape fought to free himself, but it was no use. He was put down hard, slammed to the ground with a hand over his mouth to stifle his shout._

_Snape’s eyes widened, panic flaring in them when he realised he was about to be knocked down a peg._

_Filch fumbled with his stout leather belt, unfurling it with a satisfying wallop before getting it looped around Snape’s neck. Snape took advantage of the slack, scrambling, trying to crawl frantically away, but he only managed to half-hang himself as the belt pulled tight around his neck. He clawed at the cold stone floor, fighting fruitlessly as Filch yanked up his robes and pulled down his worn grey pants._

_“If you won’t give it up,” Filch murmured, his voice rough and dark, “I’ll just have to take it, now won’t I?”_

_“Stop!” Snape cried. “I’ll tell!”_

_Filch pulled on the belt, and in the resulting squawk, Snape found his mouth stuffed with his own dirty drawers._

_Snape huddled on the floor like a puling little worm, his eyes squeezed shut as Filch knelt on the end of the belt, pinning him down._

_His hands freed, Filch pried Snape’s arse open, baring the dark, ugly pucker in between. He rubbed at it, dry, making Snape squirm._

_“You could have had it the easy way, boy,” Filch said, and then he hocked and spat._

_A great big glob of saliva dripped down Snape’s crack, the only preparation before Filch was unbuttoning his trousers, hoisting up Snape’s hips, and shoving in._

_Snape’s eyes flew open, and he screamed through his gag, thrashing without any hope of escape._

_“Fight all you like,” Filch huffed with a nasty smile, pausing only to get a better grip before he drew back and slammed in again. “Mm…tight, ain’t you? Don’t you worry, my lad. You’ll be all stretched out by the time I’m done with you.”_

_Snape whimpered, pleading in muffled, garbled words through the wadded cloth in his mouth even as his prick flushed and filled. He was a sickie, after all._

_“Like that, don’t we,” Filch said smugly, jolting Snape forward with every thrust, his balls smacking against Snape’s skinny arse with the force of it._

_“Nnn...” That was all the denial Snape could force out, fingers scrabbling at the floor._

_“Liar,” Filch said with a snort, groping underneath and batting at Snape’s sorry prick. “You’re a nasty little cunt, aren’t you, Snape?”_

_Snape, his face nearly violet, could only groan, his bony hips thrust forward, humping the empty air as he was viciously fucked. His prick bobbed eagerly, stiff and leaking._

_“Dirty little bitch,” Filch muttered breathlessly, going at him harder, making Snape wail through his gag as their bodies slammed together._

_Tears ran down Snape’s cheeks, and his chest hitched in a sob._

_“Beastly...shameless...filthy slut!”_

_Snape could only moan helplessly in agreement, shooting his spunk all over the floor as Filch built up to a frenzy of furious thrusts. Rattled like a ragdoll, he shook and shuddered as he was used to the last, fucked open and filled up with come to the sound of Filch’s triumphant shout._

_“Tsk.” Filch, red-faced and breathing hard, still wasn’t done with him. “Look what you’ve done to my nice clean floor.”_

_The line was familiar, but this time there would be no bucket and scrub brush shoved into unwilling hands. Instead, Filch’ grabbed Snape by the back of the head and rubbed his beaky nose in the wet, sticky mess he’d made._

_“Clean it up, boy.”_

_Sniffling and beaten, Snape opened his mouth. His tongue rasped over the dirty floor and slid through the slick streaks of his come as he lapped up the spill. He whined in his throat, trembling when Filch pulled out of him with a wet ‘pop.’ His arse was left gaping, rubbed raw and sloppy with spunk._

_Filch spat again, in derision this time, watching with a satisfied smirk as it dribbled over Snape’s reddened hole..._

“Sirius? Sirius—class is over.” 

Remus was poking him in the side. The professor was gathering up her things, and everyone else had already started filing out the door.

“Sirius, are you all right? You’re awfully red.”

He drew a shaky breath. He was painfully hard, tenting his robes under the desk— _throbbing_.

“Er, fine,” he managed to say. “Go on. I’ve just got to finish my notes.”

Remus looked at him doubtfully, but when Sirius didn’t budge, he shrugged and left. Sirius watched him go, then scribbled down whatever was on the blackboard before hurrying out with his book bag held in front of him, beelining for the nearest unoccupied lavatory.

He jostled past Snape, who once again just so happened to be in the way of Filch’s mop.

“Watch where you’re going, Black!” Snape said, straightening his rumpled robes as if it made any difference at all.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sirius saw Filch gazing at Snape with a crooked half-smile on his ruddy face.

"Get stuffed," Sirius muttered under his breath, but he had now strode off too far for either of them to hear him. He scowled sourly as he ducked into the boys’ room opposite the Transfiguration classroom, securing the door from the inside before entering a stall and shoving his hand impatiently into his pants. 

Bloody perverts.


End file.
